


Let Me Take Control

by a_splash_of_stucky



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blowjobs, Edging, F/M, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Sub Steve Rogers, dom reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 12:12:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14954468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_splash_of_stucky/pseuds/a_splash_of_stucky
Summary: If there’s one thing you know about your boyfriend, it’s this: Steve has a hard time admitting weakness.If there’s a second thing you know about your boyfriend, it’s this: Steve likes it when you boss him around in bed.





	Let Me Take Control

**Author's Note:**

> I know I already posted a Sub!Steve fic this week, but y’know what? You can never have too much of that, in my opinion.

If there’s one thing you know about your boyfriend, it’s this: Steve has a hard time admitting weakness.

If there’s a second thing you know about your boyfriend, it’s this: Steve likes it when you boss him around in bed.

He hasn’t explicitly  _told_  you that he likes it, but after being together for this long, you’ve learned to read his body language and have made several observations.

You’ve noticed how Steve reacts when you take charge in the bedroom – when you hold his hips down as you suck him off, or when you pin his arms above his head as you’re riding him. Steve reacts  _beautifully_ , breath hitching, pupils dilating, a scarlet blush blooming across his cheeks and spreading down his torso.

Steve also loves being told that he’s doing something right and making you feel good. Your guess is that he has a bit of a praise kink. Steve gets off on getting you off and honestly? That’s something you can roll with.

Conclusion? Steve’s got a submissive streak in him. Maybe it’s time to play with that.

————-

It’s late in the evening and Steve’s reading a book whilst lounging on the couch. His head is pillowed on the armrest, legs stretched out in front of him. He’s shirtless, clad only in a pair of grey sweats. Steve can hear you moving about in the bedroom.

“Steve?” you call.

“Yeah?”

“Can you c’mere for a sec, please?”

Steve grunts in the affirmative. He sets his book down and pads through the apartment to your shared bedroom.

What he sees when he gets there leaves him speechless.

You’re leaning against the dresser, wearing a lingerie set that Steve’s never seen before; it’s black, with a little bit of lace, the material hugging your body enticingly. Your legs are encased in a pair of thigh highs and the dark red lipstick you have on makes you look like sin personified. You’ve dimmed the lights in the bedroom, adding to the overall atmosphere.

“Y/N,” Steve croaks, at a loss for words.

“Hey, Stevie,” you purr, a mischievous smile on your lips. “What d’you think?”

“I—you look beautiful, doll, w-what’s all this for?”

“I wanted to try something new, tonight,” you explain, as you saunter over to him, your hips sashaying seductively. Steve’s breath catches in his throat when you stop in front of him; in his sweats, he can feel his cock hardening with interest.

“I want you to let  _me_ take control tonight,” you breathe, as you run your nails down Steve’s torso. His breath hitches when they catch on his nipples.

“Would you like that, Steve? Would you like to be my good boy tonight?”

Steve inhales sharply and closes his eyes. Oh, he wants that, he  _craves_ it; he wants it so bad that he can taste the desire on his tongue. Eyes still closed, he jerks his head in a stiff nod.

“Use your words, Steve,” you order, steel lacing your tone.

“Yes,” he gasps, eyes flashing open. “Yeah—yes I want that, I-I want to be good for you.”

Steve feels his cheeks burning with shame at the admission.

He knows that these desires and urges are completely  _normal_ , that lots of people want what he’s after. Steve’s done his research, knows that there are proper terms and names for all these things, but—he doesn’t want labels, or anything like that. Though the thought makes him squirm with shame, all Steve really wants is to just…be good for you. To please you, to serve you, to make you happy.

His focus is drawn back to the present when you step forward and slip one finger into the waistband of his sweats.

“Off,” you tell him. “Then on the bed, on your back, hands above your head.”

Steve scrambles to obey, nearly tripping over his feet in the process. His cock bounces free when he yanks his sweats down, slapping against his belly and smearing pre-come on it. His skin prickles with embarrassment; he’s painfully hard and you haven’t even  _done_ anything yet.

Once he’s done as you’ve instructed, you produce a length of blue hemp cord out of thin air.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he breathes, when he sees it. “Yes, yes, yes, please, I want that.” Steve moans when you deftly bind his wrists to the headboard.

“You can break that. Don’t.”

His spine tingles at your hard-edged tone. Steve nods fervently to show that he’s understood; he can be good, he can do as you say.

“Now Stevie,” you purr, as you trail your fingers down his torso. “Here’s what I’m gonna do, baby. I’m gonna suck your cock.  _But_ , you’re not allowed to come until I say so.”

Steve’s cock jerks in anticipation. “Yeah,” he rasps, eyes fluttering shut as he licks his lips. “Please, I want that.”

You hum thoughtfully as you settle between his legs. “Standard stoplights, baby. ‘Jersey’ if you need to safeword out. Colour?”

“Green,  _so_ green, Y/N,” Steve breathes.

You start by placing kisses along his iliac furrow and the insides of his thigh, purposefully ignoring his straining erection. Steve’s breath comes out in quick pants as your mouth draws nearer to his centre of need. He moans obscenely loud when you finally tongue the base of his cock, then whines in frustration when just as quickly, you move away. You repeat this process countless times – nipping, kissing, licking and sucking his thighs, hips and belly, before putting your mouth on his sensitive dick for a fleeting moment.

It’s maddening. It’s torture. He loves it.

Steve begs and whimpers, thrusting his hips into your face whilst breathing a litany of  _please, God, please_ , hoping you’ll give him what he wants. He can’t quite shake the shame and embarrassment lingering in the back of his head, but he does his best to ignore it by surrendering himself to you.

A hoarse shout leaves his throat when your lips  _finally_ close around the head of his dick. You swallow him down with practiced ease, then waste no time bobbing your head up and down his length. The sudden transition from having no stimulus on his cock to suddenly being engulfed by the warmth of your mouth brings Steve right to the edge.

“M’gonna come, baby, fuck baby— _please_ —oh, don’t stop, m’so close—,”

Steve sobs in frustration when you pull off immediately, robbing him of his climax.

The sensation is almost unbearably painful, but over the sound of his harsh breathing, Steve can hear you murmuring words of praise.

“Good boy, Stevie, you’re doin’ so well for me, I’m so proud of you.”

And that’s it, isn’t it? He just wants to make you proud.

Again and again, you bring Steve to the brink of orgasm, only to stop short of tipping him over the edge; it takes less and less to bring him there, each time. Steve loses count of how many times you deny him release. There are tear-tracks on his cheeks, his throat is dry, his balls are drawn up tight and his groin is throbbing with the need to come.

Even so – Steve feels like he’s floating, experiencing a new realm of existence. Distantly, he hears himself sobbing, grunting, pleading with barely-formed words and incoherent babble. Time has become an irrelevant concept. The rest of the world has faded away; the only thing that matters is you and the fact that Steve  _needs_ to be good for you.

You’re jacking him off, your fist gripping him just the way he likes it, palm gliding easily over his spit-slick dick. Steve’s fighting not to buck his hips into your hand. Your tongue teases the head of his cock, swirling through the pre-come drooling out of the slit.

“Oh, Stevie, you’ve been such a good boy for me,” you croon, your voice low and soothing.

“Please,” Steve croaks, voice cracked and raspy. “P-please, wan’ come—so c-close,  _please_.”

He cries out when you take his cock back into your mouth, your tongue flicking against the underside. Steve grits his teeth and tosses his head from side to side, his hands straining against his bonds as he tries to stave off the orgasm that’s threatening to burst through.

Then, he hears you utter the words that he’s been  _dying_  to hear.

“You can come, Stevie, whenever you want.”

It takes one, two, three more pulls before Steve’s orgasm explodes through him, a blast of pleasure radiating from the base of his cock and spreading to the tips of his fingers; it’s a sweet, sweet relief. Maybe he shouts, maybe he sobs, but either way, his brain short-circuits, completely overwhelmed.

When he comes down from his high, Steve discovers you sitting beside his head, your fingers carding through his sweaty hair, gentle and comforting. He realises that you’re murmuring sweet nothings under your breath and Steve strains his ears to pick up what you’re saying.

“You’re such a good boy for me, Stevie,” you whisper, “So good for me.”

Steve’s lips curl into a slow, satisfied smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Share this on [tumblr!](https://a-splash-of-stucky.tumblr.com/post/174973068365/let-me-take-control/)


End file.
